


Gay Panic Attack

by theloversclub



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 09:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10554236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theloversclub/pseuds/theloversclub
Summary: Eddie freezes as It approaches and it seems nothing can shake his paralysing fear. Richie Tozier was never one to turn down a challenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on the first trailer way back when in March 2017 and updated it to be accurate when the film came out. Hope you like it

Eddie could barely choke out his gasps of terror.

He knew he was in a really shitty situation, fucking awful, the worst of his life. He was trapped, frozen and powerless, overwhelmed by panic and pain. The adrenaline pumping through his thin body couldn't help him. Adrenaline like a drug, except this wasn’t something his Ma had given him, gotten from the drug store with a disturbing glee. This was new and he was ill equipped with deal with it. He couldn't fight back- his pitiful attempt had only amused It. He was just sitting here as his lungs shrank and his gasps turned rattled. Its hands were gripping Eddie's thin face. He finally screamed. This would have been a great shot in a creature feature, one that would have made all the kids at the Capitol gasp, one that would have made Eddie scared shitless, though even if he would never admit it to the others. Its eyes were burning like a pyre. They were looking right into Eddie's soul. 

Everything had happened so quickly. One minute he had been with the others, cursing himself for pulling the short straw but feeling at least a little reassured that his best friends were with him. And a moment later, he was alone, alone with the Leper who shoved him down, down, down and the next thing he knew he was all alone in a dusty room, with a bent arm full of pain to keep him company. At least, he had thought he was alone. The hand had come out, the fridge door had swung open, revealing the clowns contorted body. As It climbed out with deadly intent, Eddie had never felt so defenseless. The terror had filled his throat so he couldn’t even choke out a scream. The clown in his elaborate carnival costume had moved jerkily forwards, oozing mischief and malice. 

'Time to float!" It had said happily and yes, the time had come to say goodbye to his Ma and his inhaler and his pills, to spitting in the quarry and cycling with his friends. His time was through and he’d end up just like Georgie after all. He didn't know what had happened to Bill and Richie, if they had escaped or It had already gotten them (Eddie thought of Richie's missing poster anxiously, and forced himself to stop- he was getting good at ignoring strange thoughts involving Richie). Bev, Mike, Stan and Ben? Probably still waiting for them to come back. They might still survive. 

Would It be satisfied with sickly, puny Eddie? Probably not. It would go after the others too and It couldn’t be stopped. Bill was a idiot to think otherwise. This mission was a fucking doomed one from the start. He felt some resentment toward Bill for leading him in here. He had trusted him and now he wouldn't live to regret it. Knowing that this was pointless didn't stop him from scrambling back in a panic, until he could go no further. 

Now It would have his way with him. He could only hope it was quick.

At least his arm wouldn't hurt anymore. At least his gasps for air would stop. At least the confused feelings about girls (and boys) wouldn't be an issue.... 

"Tasty, tasty beautiful fear...." he heard It say and those were gonna be the last words he'd ever hear, as It leaned in towards him, the enlarging jaw revealing row upon row of cartoonishly sharp teeth. The sight was enough to start screaming again. He pleaded with It to stop, babbling nonsensically, but It only moved closer.

****

****

Then, It stopped and slowly Its hand moved to cover Eddie's face. He gagged in disgust and a shudder rolled down his thin body at the texture of the glove. What was going on? Something had changed. Pennywise wasn't smiling anymore. He could hear someone faintly yelling his name. Bill? Bill was alive! And he was looking for him! And that might mean.... Richie could be alive too! Hope rushed into his racing heart. The door banged open and Richie and Bill ran in. His shoulders slumped a little with relief. They were alive! 

"Eddie!" Richie was yelling as he ran in and then he, he and Bill, spotted and stared at him, sitting behind It on the floor wide eyed. "Eddie..." Richie repeated, staring at him. Eddie didn't have time to reply and he honestly didn’t know what he would have said. He wondered what his eyes were telling Richie.

"This isn't real enough for you Billy Boy? I'm not real enough?" 

The knowledge that his death wouldn't happen in the next 5 seconds washed over with relief, with the sting of his arm reminding him that this wasn't over. It was focused on the others now but It would come back for him, grinning again… 

“It was real enough for Georgie!” 

Eddie gasped as It rushed toward Bill and Richie, and gasped again as Bev ran in and attacked It. He was doing an awful lot of gasping but it still felt like he wasn't getting any air into his lungs. He started feeling woozy again as he heard Richie shout in surprise. It had frozen and the others ran toward him. They started shouting at him but he wasn’t listening, he was looking at It who was starting to move again and now he was moving toward them, it was like nothing had changed, it was time to float! “Eddie we gotta go!” he heard faintly. Who was saying that? Did it really matter? Where could they go? They were gonna die, It was gonna kill them… 

For the first time, Eddie wondered what would happen when they died, if It would take their bodies to the sewers where Bill had found Betty's shoe that sunny June day (God, that seemed like years ago). What photo of him would be used for the missing poster, the poster that people would avoid looking at and thinking about? How many people would care about seven kids disappearing? Another Denbrough boy. The girl who ran with boys. A fat kid and the Rabbi’s son and a farm boy. Four eyes Tozier who couldn’t close his perfect mouth if he tried, with the mother who drank too much. 'Would the bitch even notice if he didn't come home?' Eddie thought, irrationally finding the energy to feel angry. Finally, himself. He wondered how his own mother would react to his death. 

Hands gripped his face on both sides. As he looked to his right, he found himself staring into Richie’s wide eyes. For about one fifth of a second, neither said anything at all. They just looked at each other, brown eyes boring into coke bottle glasses. Richie’s hands were slick with sweat. He looked very afraid. Eddie wondered if his own were the same. Eddie was amazed that Richie was still here, that he hadn't - “Eddie! Come on, you have to get up!” 

It didn’t register until hours later, lying in a hospital bed, that Richie had called him Eddie and not ‘Eds’, the incessant nickname which he pretended to hate (but which made his chest feel weirdly warm). Bill had been on his other side but wait, he was gone now, he was going after It. It was going- and holy shit and shinola maybe they weren’t gonna die after all?

Again, sharp pain flowed down his arm and he groaned. Richie frowned and then gagged at the sight of Eddie’s arm. “Alright Eddie, I’m sorry… I’m gonna snap it into place!” Eddie gaped at him and saw that he was serious. “Do not fucking touch me!” Richie ignored him and Eddie yelled in pain as his arm was indeed snapped back. His body knotted and then relaxed as his mind floated away from this reality. 

He just wanted to get the fuck out of here. He had felt so many emotions in such a short span of time that he didn’t know how he was feeling anymore, only that he was never coming back to this fucking house again. He wanted to be with what he knew, his Ma and doctors and clean, chemical health, far away from grey water and missing posters and possessed projector slides. He was through with that shit. 

_ **Richie:** _

Richie didn’t know about anyone else but he was really not having a great day. Maybe that was to be expected at 29 Neibolt Street. The house had been filled with danger and evil for a very long time and today's events were no exception. It was bad enough he pulled the fucking short straw and he had to go into a junkie house to face an evil shape shifting demon. That was starting to feel like standard Losers Club activity at this point. It was also pretty bad that the demon looked JUST like what Richie was terrified of most (he couldn't stand clowns, and this one wasn't gonna leave his nightmares for a while). The summer of '89 was becoming more and more like the horror pulp fiction he loved to read. “This is probably punishment from the big man” Richie thought gloomily. “It’s a warning to quit that queer shit”. 

Unfortunately, Richie felt it would be easier to stop talking on command. It was a little hard to only thinks about girls when Eddie smiled or laughed, especially when it was at something Richie had said. Thinking about Eddie was like an addiction. Even when Eddie coughed or needed his inhaler (which was a lot), Richie felt a weird need to protect him, which was ridiculous because of course Eddie didn’t need his help. He was ten times more competent at everything. Fat lot skinny, bespectacled Richie could do. His own goddamn parents didn't need him. Maybe it was a good thing Eddie never had. Until now.

Eddie had disappeared out of sight as the door had slammed and though it had taken some time (he shuddered remembering the clown room, swallowing his fears to go after Eddie, thinking the missing poster was 10 seconds away from becoming reality) he had eventually rushed down with Bill. Eds had needed his help alright- he was backed up against the wall as It was about to rip him up, and devour him. Richie had nearly shit his pants right then and there. Then Beverly had come in (thank fuck) and hit the bastard. Eddie looked like shit. His arm made Richie feel queasy and his eyes were wide and darting around the room. The goddamn clown, had started moving again and they needed to get the fuck out or do something but Eddie wasn’t doing shit. No matter how many times Richie had told him he needed to go, he did not respond. 

Richie did what was totally necessary and definitely not weird, he put his hands on either side of his face, physically tugged Eddie's gaze away from IT, and begged Eddie to listen to him. Eddie's eyes had said a lot in response. 

Thankfully, Bev had done a good enough job that they forced IT away (Bev was the absolute shit, although she and Bill had some kind of suicide pact that Richie had never signed up for) and then there was a sudden silence, filled with the shock of everything that had just happened, that broke as both Ben and Eddie moaned in pain. Bill followed It, despite Richie screaming at him to come back (Richie was used to people ignoring him but this was getting ridiculous), leaving him alone with Eddie. His arm looked fucking gross. Yuck. He wasn’t a health expert like Eds but he knew when an arm was broken, and he also knew that a broken arm had to be reset. Eddie obviously couldn’t do it. Richie swallowed and worked up his nerve.

“Alright Eddie, I’m sorry... I’m gonna snap it into place!"

Eddie screamed at him to stop but he ignored it, he was doing this for Eddie even though he felt like an goddamn asshole as Eddie yelled in pain and slumped on him. ‘Eddie, I’m sorry, we’re gonna get you to a hospital okay? You’re gonna be okay, I swear….” He muttered, more for himself than anyone else. 

He suddenly noticed how shallow Eddie's breath was and cursed himself for not noticing earlier, before digging around in his pocket for the inhaler he carried around in there and put in Eddie's mouth to release whatever the fuck would help his lungs work. He sat back as Eddie's shallow gasps stopped.

Bill walked back in the room, toward Ben who was bleeding pretty bad. As Richie looked at Ben anxiously (the poor kid had the worst luck), he felt someone reach out and squeeze his hand, weakly. It felt like his heart. He looked down and the sight of Ed’s small pale hand, wrapped in Richie’s, conjured up that pesky feeling. And not just about Eddie. Mike, Ben, Stan, Beverly. They may have been losers but they were Richie’s friends. He annoyed the crap out of them ~~sometimes~~ a lot of the time (despite the glasses, he wasn’t blind) but they still liked him, they listened to him and that mattered to Richie. They cared about him far more than his parents ever did. And they weren’t going to die. Neither was he. He was through with this shit. They all were, no matter what Bill said. 

Through the walk out of 29 Neibolt Street (Richie was never going near that hell hole again) and onto the street, Eddie didn’t let go of Richie’s hand. Richie was grateful for that. He thought he might be in shock but things didn't seem all that bad. Eddie was here (seriously hurt and scared but still alive, his mind whispered in relief, you did something right then) and his presence helped when Richie was scared or overwhelmed. His touch was calming, when It was appearing in goddamn projectors and whatnot. And he didn’t even try, that was the funny thing. He wasn't very nice or quiet (they had that in common and it caused their personalities to clash a lot) but he was always... Eddie. Always there for him when he needed it. For better or worse. Richie hoped things wouldn’t change after all that had just happened, that Eddie wouldn’t figure out Richie’s feelings for him later (because Richie couldn’t get rid of them and right now he could barely remember why he was even trying in the first place- was it the brush with death putting things in perspective or the way how their hands fit together so comfortably?) 

They had almost reached Eddie's house, Eddie balancing awkwardly on the back of Richie's bike and Richie was worried about Sonya's reaction. He hoped she didn't give Eddie too hard a time- god knows she was a bitch most days already. He helped Eddie off the bike. 

‘Thanks, Richie’ Eddie whispered unevenly. “I mean, you really hurt my arm but thanks for coming in. I was…really close to not ever leaving that fucking place”. 

Richie smiled through his complicated emotions and cleared his voice. “Anytime, Eddie Spaghetti!” 

On the furious ride home after his fight with Bill the absolute asshole (had he not SEEN Eddie’s arm? Or Ben’s stomach? Things could have been so much worse, they almost had been like Eddie had said and he wanted to fucking do it again? Richie wasn’t gonna leave the arcade for the rest of the summer), his mind wandered to Eddie as it often did, thinking about the bullshit Mrs K had been yelling, hoping he was doing alright. He couldn’t stop worrying about Eddie not being allowed to hang out with the losers. Richie might die a little without Eddie, he’d miss the banter they had. Maybe it was dumb but it felt like Richie was a burning fire and Eddie was an important piece of kindling. He'd still burn perhaps, but the fire would be diminished. That was normal right? Friends make someone burn brighter. They make them better, more real. Of course sometimes Richie thought Eddie was the only thing that helped him go to sleep at night. His dimples were something to daydream about when a nightmare woke him up at 3AM. That probably was not normal friendship stuff. 

Basically, Eddie was helping him get through this hellish summer, this hellish life, one good chuck at a time. It didn’t really matter what the hell he felt for Eddie, he just knew that his friend was important to him. A voice in the back of Richie’s head shifted uncomfortably at friend and Richie ignored it. They were all alive. That was enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! 
> 
> Also, if anyone is confused about the title, it's in reference to an Instagram post that Jack commented on.
> 
> (Follow me arcadetozier on tumblr and @softiejeremy on twitter)


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